Two Black Cadillacs
by LittleMissPeachy
Summary: A chance phone call reveals that Harry's husband has been cheating on him. Together, the scorned men carry out revenge, unaware that their lives are destined to be intertwined. Oneshot. Slash. Harry/Blaise; Harry/Draco.


_**Disclaimer:** The characters JKR created do not belong to me, and I own nothing in the Harry Potter universe. I'm just borrowing other people's toys. But you know that. Carry on, dear reader._

_**Warnings:** Non-magic AU. Language. Character death. While I don't go into detail, murder is an element in the story, and as such, Harry and Draco are slightly OOC. While the first half is rather dark, the second half is rather fluffy._

_**AN:** After listening to Kristen Merlin's cover of Two Black Cadillacs on The Voice, I couldn't help but want more details to the story that the song tells. This is my version of it. My inspiration came __from the lyrics and Carrie Underwood's music video, as well as random ideas from my best friend K. The pairing in this fic to start with is Harry/Blaise, but Drarry fans will not be disappointed, I promise. Any side parings are canon. Two minor OC's._

_Harry and Draco's Tumblr usernames are inspired by my Game of Thrones obsession, and were taken from a couple of tweets I came across._

* * *

><p>Harry stares out of the window, hardly noticing the other cars as they pass by the black vehicle. His driver mutters some expletive as a car cuts in front of them and he barely manages to suppress a grin. It just wouldn't do for someone to see him smile today.<p>

The urge to laugh fades as his gaze falls upon the other black Cadillac pulling into the parking lot just ahead of his own. It parks three spots away from where his driver pulls to a stop. Stepping out from behind the black door, Harry catches the eye of a blonde man emerging from the other car. They hold eye contact for the briefest of moments. He nods politely, eliciting a nod in return; then as if by some unspoken agreement they turn their footsteps towards the holy building towering above them.

Harry tugs awkwardly at his tie as he takes a seat among the many rows of pews. Hearing his name, he turns right into the arms of a bushy brunette. "Hey Hermione."

"How are you Harry?"

Harry pulls away from his friend. "I still can't believe he's gone. I feel like I'm in a dream and I'll wake up and find him sleeping beside me still."

Hermione pats his arm. "Ron will be in any moment. He stopped to chat with Luna."

Harry gave a shaky smile. "I saw her outside muttering about Wrackspurts. She hasn't changed much in the last few years."

"Well she's changed a little. Did you notice - ?"

"Yes, I saw she's pregnant." Harry gave a genuine smile. "I'll have to congratulate her."

"Wotcher, Harry."

"Tonks!" Harry smiles at the new arrival. "And where is Remus?"

"He's giving Teddy a talking to. They'll be along shortly."

"Let's sit." Hermione began to usher them all into a row. "The service will be starting any moment."

* * *

><p>The preacher's words drift along the pews. "…And he was a good man…"<p>

Harry ruffles a hand through his hair, fighting another sudden urge to laugh, but the feeling disappears as quickly as it comes. Letting the preacher fade into background noise, he allows his mind to wander.

_"You're going to be late babe!" Harry called as he passed by the stairs._

_"I know. It's going to be murder getting through rush hour traffic." His husband's voice sounded rushed._

_Harry sipped his coffee and smiled, shaking his head. "Do you have everything for your presentation?"_

_Blaise walked into the kitchen, panting as he grabbed the glass of orange juice Harry had left for him on the counter. "I think so. I've got to run honey, I'll see you tonight."_

_Harry moved to give his husband a quick kiss. "Good luck love."_

_Blaise kissed him back before leaving. Harry heard the door open and close, and then open again. "What did you forget babe?"_

_"Keys?"_

_"On the hook. Under that jacket of mine with the grape juice stain."_

_"Thanks love!" _

_Harry heard the door close a final time. Shaking his head, he walked though the empty house. "I should vacuum…" His musings were cut short as he recognized an object on the floor. "Blaise, your driver's license fell out again." He reached for his cell phone in his back pocket, and pressed the number two on the speed dial. On the fourth ring, his call was answered. Without waiting for Blaise's customary 'hello', he spoke. "Love, you left your driver's license at home. I know you're late, but please don't break any traffic laws today, m'kay?" _

_"I think you've got the wrong number." An unfamiliar male voice filled Harry's ear._

_Harry frowned, puzzled. "I have Blaise on speed dial, so I didn't type the numbers in wrong. What are you doing with his phone?"_

_"You know Blaise? Blaise Zabini?" The voice on the other end suddenly sounded suspicious. _

_"Yes, he's my husband. Who is this? How do you know Blaise?"_

_There was silence for a moment, then – "We are talking about the same Blaise Zabini right? Dark skin and a crazy laugh that sounds like a hyena?"_

_"How do you know about that laugh? He only sounds like that when…" Harry stopped short as the realization hit him. "Why that foul loathsome evil little cockroach!"_

_"I never even suspected - I thought I'd found a decent guy for once. Damn him!"_

_"I hope he gets cited for driving without a license now. I am going to bloody well kill him when he gets home."_

_There was another silence before the man on the other end spoke. "He should pay for this."_

_"He _will_ pay for this! I don't do cheaters."_

_"He proposed to me last week." The voice sounded both wistful and angry._

_"How the hell was he planning to pull that off?" Harry demanded, incensed. _

_"I don't know. But there's no point in trying to understand. My motto is don't get mad, get even."_

_"So how do you propose getting even?"_

_"Are you suggesting a collaboration?"_

Harry shakes his head, willing himself to pay attention as he hears the preacher introduce the next speaker, Jason Zabini.

* * *

><p>Blaise's brother gets up to deliver his eulogy, his shoes squeaking slightly on the polished marble floor. His voice washes over Draco. "...And he was a good friend…" He bites back a yawn. He'd not gotten much sleep last night, and the man now speaking has a soft, soothing tone. He lets the voice fade into background noise.<p>

_Draco paced back and forth, his footsteps taking him from the kitchen to the living room and back again. Angry tears clouded his eyes. He'd agreed to revenge collaboration with Khal – they'd agreed not to share their real names given the nature of the arrangement they'd come up with – and his mind was racing with ideas about how they could execute their plan. He gave a humorless grin as he thought the word 'execute' and was immediately reminded of the conversation he'd had only an hour before._

_"Are you suggesting a collaboration?" Draco was slightly surprised, and knew it showed in his voice._

_"Well, yes, I guess I am."_

_"Well." Draco said thoughtfully. "Then we should not confront him until we decide how to punish him."_

_"Damn." The man sighed. "I was so looking forward to that tonight. He hates when people catch him in a lie. This is going to kill him." The tone made it clear that he was quite pleased with that fact._

_Draco was quiet for a moment._

_"Hello? Are you still there?"_

_"I'm still here. I – had a thought. On how we can make him pay for this."_

_"Go on."_

_"Your last statement made me think of it, actually."_

_"What did I…?" _

_Draco didn't reply, and for a moment all he could hear was the sound of steady breathing, until –_

_"Oh." The voice spoke quietly, without inflection, and Draco could not tell what the other man thought about his idea. He let the silence continue._

_"How?"_

_Draco permitted himself to smile grimly. "I write murder mystery novels for a lark."_

_"I used to be a crime scene investigator. I'm sure between the two of us we can come up with a suitable plan."_

_"Why don't we sleep on it." Draco suggested. "Trade ideas tomorrow, if you're still in."_

_"How do I get a hold of you?"_

_"Are you on Tumblr?"_

_"Yes."_

_"Look me up. I'm jorah-the-explorer. With a dash in between each word."_

_The other man chucked. "Brilliant. My username is my-so-khal-life. A dash in between each word as well."_

_"Clever. And I think, given our plans, we should stick to nicknames, don't you?"_

_"Agreed. Talk to you later, Jorah."_

_"Until tomorrow, Khal."_

Draco blinks, stifling a yawn. He tries to listen to Blaise's brother droning on but finds his attention drifting. From his seat in the back pew, he can see nearly every person in attendance. His eyes fall on the dark-haired man he'd seen come out of the other black Cadillac earlier, and his silver orbs stop roaming.

* * *

><p>A peculiar sensation envelops Harry as the service continues. He turns his head to look behind him and immediately discovers the reason. The man he identifies as Jorah stares back at him, and in that instant, he knows they are united in remembrance.<p>

_The car sat idling, headlights off, across the street from a modest café with a small grouping of dining tables littered in front. Harry watched, tapping his fingers and toes to the beat of rock music softly coming through the radio, as two men leisurely finished their meal._

_He took a breath, slowly letting it out. A mixture of unidentifiable emotions swirled inside as he continued to watch his husband and Jorah. He was grateful that Jorah had volunteered to be the bait; Harry was pants at lying under the best of circumstances._

_His heart hammered when he realized that the men were getting up from their table. Making sure the hood of his sweatshirt was firmly in place he adjusted his glasses and shifted into drive as the couple began their walk back to Jorah's flat._

_He brought the passenger door level with the two men. Amused at the puzzled look on Blaise's face as Jorah opened the door and jumped in, Harry quickly locked the door and backed up, his eyes locked on the target now several feet ahead._

_"Go!" A low voice urged him on, but Harry needed no encouragement. He stepped on the gas. The engine roared to life and charged at the figure of a lone man running away._

_In a flash, it was over. Harry sped away, heart pumping fast as excitement ran through his veins._

_He brought his passenger to the arranged destination, carefully navigating the half-empty streets. Jorah left with a nod, his breathing still swift and uneven from the influence of the adrenaline._

The memory flashes quickly though Harry's mind before he turns to face forward once more, a crimson smile on his lips.

* * *

><p>Draco watches silently as his former lover's husband lays a rose on top of the casket. This seems to signify the end of the service, as people start to rise and mingle, making a slow but steady progression to the exit. He gets up but stays in place, watching people pass by. His dark-haired partner in crime stands nearby, quietly talking to two identical-looking men. He catches his eye, and they share a glance full of unspoken knowledge before Draco shuffles away, a crimson smile playing on his own lips.<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Four and a Half Years Later<strong>

* * *

><p><em>At this time we will ask you to turn off all electronic devices. Thank you.<em>

"Hermione, I've got to turn off my phone now. I'll call you after I've landed okay?"

The woman on the other end of the phone laughs. "You'd better. Talk to you later."

Harry hangs up. Pressing the small button on the top, he waits until he hears the familiar _ding_ before letting go and storing the cell in the pocket of his jacket.

"Was that your wife?"

He turns to look at the stranger beside him, now looking at him with mild interest. Flicking his eyes over the man's unique appearance, he answers. "Nah, she's one of my best friends."

"Oh. Sorry, I just assumed based on your side of the conversation." The man gives an embarrassed chuckle.

Harry smiles. "We've known each other a long time. She's actually married to my best mate Ron. They've got two kids now, with another one on the way."

The stranger nods. "What about you? Any kids?"

"No. My husband and I weren't married long enough to adopt any children. I'd like to have them someday though."

The man bobs his head, but does not reply, and a relaxed silence falls.

Harry watches through the tiny window as the world seems to slip away and the cars below become smaller and smaller, finally turning into nothing more than specks of light, moving slowly across a line carved into the ground. When he finally looks around, he finds the other man watching him.

"Sorry." The stranger gives a sheepish grin. "I just have this funny feeling that I know you, but I can't for the life of me remember. I'm not very good with placing faces."

"You don't look at all familiar to me, sorry."

"I guess I would be easy to remember, wouldn't I?" The man says in amusement, gesturing to his hair. "Although this is new. I dyed it because I lost a bet. At least I got to choose the color."

"What made you decide on green?"

"It's always been my favorite color. Sadly, it's rather conspicuous, which I suppose was Theo's reasoning behind choosing hair dye as a consequence."

"What's the bet you lost?"

"My friend Theodore and I competed to see who could wear shorts outside in the middle of winter the longest. I lasted twenty minutes before I couldn't take it anymore." The man shivers. "I was lucky I didn't get frostbite."

Harry makes a noise of agreement, threading his fingers though his hair. "Yeah my friends and I get into plenty of our own mischief."

"Is that a tattoo?"

"Wha – oh. Yes it is."

"What made you decide to get a bolt of lightning on your forehead?"

"My parents met at a cosplay convention for Harry Potter. You know, that book series by JK Rowling? They named me for the main character. Half my friends are named after characters too, since our parents all did cosplay together."

"So the tattoo is a way to connect to your namesake?" The man lifts an eyebrow.

Harry nods. "When I had to replace my glasses with contacts a few months ago, I got this to make me feel more in touch with my roots." He gives an apologetic grin. "I suppose it's rather silly."

"Not at all, not at all. It's a curious coincidence, actually. My Mother was a fan of the series as well. She also named me after one of the characters." The green-haired man extends his hand. "It's nice to meet you Harry. I'm Draco."

Harry shakes Draco's hand. "The symbolism of this moment is rather ironic, don't you think?"

The man laughs softly, his eyes sparkling. "Agreed."

* * *

><p><em>Please put your tray tables in the upright position. The caption has turned on the seatbelt sign and has started her decent. We will be arriving at our destination in approximately fifteen minutes. The local time is five 'o'clock pm. <em>

"Goodness, is it that time already?" Draco rubs his eyes and yawns. "The flight went by faster than I expected."

Harry looks at him. "Time flies when you're having fun."

"Quite true." Draco hesitates before asking, "Do you want to exchange numbers? I really enjoyed talking to you, and I'd like to ask you out for coffee while we're both here."

Harry's cheeks take on a red tinge as he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small notepad and pen. "I really enjoyed talking to you too. I'd love to go out with you. I'm here on vacation, so I've got plenty of free time."

"I'm here to see my old school mate Greg. He's getting married in a couple of months but since I can't make the wedding I'm seeing him now. He's wanted me to meet his fiancée for awhile…but anyway, after I fulfill my obligated visit I've got nothing but free time. I'll call you after I'm all settled and we'll set something up?"

"Sounds perfect."

* * *

><p><em>Tap tap tap. <em>Harry's fingers drum a rhythm against the steering wheel of their own accord, the only outward sign of his nerves as he deftly drives into the parking lot.

A sign welcomes him to the Cocoa Beach Pier as he walks towards the coastline, a small piece of a conversation repeating once more in his mind.

_"I'll be waiting under the pier." _

_"I thought you were asking me out for coffee?"_

_"I am."_

Once alongside the pier he follows the length, searching for the green hair that he knows will stand out against the color of the wood. When he sees it Harry nearly calls out in greeting but restrains himself after taking in the full scene.

Green strands blow in the gentle breeze. The man stands with his back to Harry, looking out to the water. Beside him, arranged on a checkered red and white tablecloth, lays a small box and a large thermos. Harry looks for a long moment as he tries to commit the picture before him to memory.

"Hi." He finally says softly, almost shyly.

Draco turns with a smile. "Hi." He extends his arm. "So first question. How do you take your coffee?"

"Plenty of cream and sugar." Harry responds, relaxing at the friendly tone that sounds just as he remembers. "I have a bit of a sweet tooth." He gives a small chuckle.

"I do too. To be honest sometimes I'm not sure how much of my coffee is actually coffee. I like a lot of cream." As Draco speaks he pulls two mugs from the box and pours out the dark liquid, wincing internally at the hint of nervousness in his voice. "Please, sit."

Harry drops down across from the other man, accepting the mug. "I have to admit, this is shaping up to be the best coffee date I've gone on. Coffee on a beach, I like it."

"I actually can't take credit for the idea. An ex took me on a date like this once. It was a California beach though."

"How long did you live in California?"

Draco frowns in thought. "Not long. I'm originally from London. Moved to California four years ago for a job before ending up at my current home – Salt Lake City – three years ago."

"I just moved to Salt Lake." Harry glances at the water before looking back at Draco. "I'm originally from London as well. Lived there my whole life until a year ago."

Draco's eyes go wide. "Really? What a coincidence!"

"Yeah we might have walked by each other before or something! So why'd you decide on Salt Lake?"

The green-haired man takes a sip thoughtfully. "I pretty much just woke up one day and realized that I wasn't happy with my life. I had nothing and no one tying me down anymore and wanted a change. I took out a map, closed my eyes and pointed my finger at some random place on the paper."

Harry laughs. "Is that really how you figured it out?"

"I know it sounds crazy, but yes that's what I did." Draco grins sheepishly. "What about you?"

"Short version is I spent three years after my husband died buried in my work, trying to forget." Harry took a breath, letting it out slowly. "Then last year my Godfather was finally declared innocent – that's another long story – but anyway he invited me to visit him in Salt Lake and I did and for the first time since Blaise died – it was a hit and run, they never found the guy – but I actually felt alive in the city..."

Draco blinks sharply, nearly spilling coffee down his front as his mind connects the dots. _No wonder he looks so familiar to me._ Unsure of how to proceed, his mind races for a moment before deciding to deal with the knowledge later; the man he's talking to is intriguing and he doesn't have the heart to say anything anyway. Thankful Harry's eyes are staring into his coffee cup and he hasn't noticed anything amiss, Draco tunes back into the conversation.

"…so I packed up and moved into Sirius' place. Well, at least until he started dating again." Harry looks up, his expression one of amusement. "The walls of his place are pretty thin…"

Draco flushes as he cottons on to Harry's implication. Partly to cover up his embarrassment, he quickly asks, "So you've got your own place now?"

Harry smiles, enjoying the color showing on the other man's cheeks. "Yes. It's small but brilliant."

* * *

><p>"Oh!" Harry exclaims. "Look at how beautiful that is."<p>

Draco twists to the side. "Wow."

The two men stop walking along the shoreline to view the sun as it slowly sinks below the horizon.

Harry's voice softly shatters the silence. "I didn't realize it was so late."

"Time flies when you're having fun." Draco teases, repeating the phrase Harry had spoken on the plane.

"I'd like to see you again?" Harry says, glancing up into the other man's face.

Draco responds immediately, consequences be damned. "Is tomorrow too soon?"

Harry's face lights up, relief flooding his expression. "Tomorrow sounds just right."

* * *

><p><em>I don't want to mess this up.<em>

_I know I have to tell him._

_What do I say?_

_I don't want to tell him._

_How do I do it?_

"Fuck." He whispers to the night.

Draco paces across the balcony of his hotel, the warm night air blowing gently over his skin. Stars twinkle overhead, but their beauty is lost on him as he continues to agonize over the predicament at hand. Five steps to the left. Turn. Five steps to the right. Turn. Repeat.

He wants to scream his frustration to the sky but refrains, knowing other hotel guests would not take kindly to being woken up at – he checks his watch – one 'o' clock in the morning. Cursing under his breath yet again, he once more goes over his dilemma.

It had been a week since the coffee date at the beach. Since then he'd seen Harry every single day. They'd decided sightseeing would be more fun with someone along for the ride, which, Draco admitted to himself, was probably just an excuse they both used because they wanted to see each other again. And again. And again.

Draco couldn't stay away from Harry even though he knew this could only end in heartbreak for them both when he told Harry the truth. He knew for sure now – the other man had mentioned other random details in conversation that confirmed his already firm suspicions – yet this had not deterred him from meeting up with Harry every chance he got.

He snorted. _Harry is like my own personal brand of heroin._ The more time he spent with him, and the more he'd come to know Harry, the more attracted he'd become. Greg had noticed, and had even pulled him aside during a lunch with his fiancée to ask what the bloody hell was wrong with him.

_"You're distracted and keep staring off into space. What's on your mind?"_

_"Who, more like. I can't stop thinking of him."_

_"The guy from the plane?"_

_"Yes. I'm sorry Greg, I just think I'm falling and it's complicated and I don't know – "_

_"It's not complicated at all. You like him. He obviously likes you too, from what you've told me about him. You live in the same city. Connect the dots, Draco."_

Draco sighed. Greg didn't know and never would know the full story, but he had a point. "Fine." He said out loud to himself. "I'll tell Harry tomorrow."

* * *

><p>The red-hue of rough bricks layered in a pattern that suggests the archway is in the process of growing ever wider emerges, and Harry can't help but give a shout of excitement and grab his companion's hand, pulling him along.<p>

"Harry! Watch the butterbeer!" Draco laughs, no trace of annoyance in his voice, only excitement.

Harry catches the other man's eyes. "Sorry." The ear to ear grin completely overshadows the apologetic tone. He turns back to the street they'd just walked into, drinking in the sight of childhood fantasy. "Bloody hell. Just look at it Draco! It's – it's magical."

Shops litter the sides of the long cobbled stone street. People bustle to and fro, some sporting cameras, others hauling large shopping bags, most of them wearing some article of clothing that conveys which Hogwarts House they identify with.

"Welcome, Harry, to Diagon Ally." Draco breathes, his tone full of wonder.

"It's magical." Harry repeats. "It's like stepping into the book. Almost makes me forget we're in a theme park."

The two men stand there for a moment longer before Harry once more grabs Draco's hand, pulling him into the crowd. "Come on! Let's explore."

Draco follows Harry, too overwhelmed by the feelings burning within his belly at the touch of the other man's hand to protest that a quarter of his butterbeer now lay wasted on the stones beneath their feet. His eyes fall upon a sign right next door to The Leaky Cauldron. "Harry! Let's go there first!"

Harry stops and looks back at him, a mischievous grin on his face. "Planning on getting a Hand of Glory?"

"I wasn't planning on it but now that you mention it…" Draco teases.

It takes Harry a moment to catch the implication behind his words, but Draco knows the instant he understands. The other man blushes and looks down before looking back up, a comeback already leaving his lips. "I'm sure there are plenty of dark corners in Knockturn Alley."

Draco feels his face grow hot. Harry gives him a smirk before nudging him along. They enter the dim alleyway, the crowd pressing against them in the confined space. "Look, Borgin & Burkes!"

Draco holds Harry's arm to avoid getting separated as they slowly make their way to the front of the infamous shop. A Hand of Glory on display catches his eye as the mass of people force him and his companion against the glass of the window in front. He looks at Harry, who stares back with a heated expression, and Draco knows in that moment exactly what he's thinking. He hesitates, wondering if he should even be considering what he's thinking about doing, but then Harry's hand reaches to cup his cheek and _oh_ – it feels so fucking good and he forgets his guilt and stops thinking at all, his body automatically leaning into Harry's –

"Jamie! See? There's the Hand of Glory!" An excited young boy's voice sounds as he pushes past the two men by the window, followed by another lad of about the same age. Harry blinks and flinches in shock, quickly pulling the hand away from Draco's cheek and moving to allow the children access to the window. Draco steps with him, simultaneously irritated and relived at the interruption. He knows his face is flushed, and notices Harry is beet red and unable to look at him. "We should – we should see what the shop's like inside." He mentally curses at how husky his voice sounds.

Harry takes a deep, shuttering breath to calm the thudding in his chest before looking up. "Yeah," he agrees, "Let's check you – um, let's check it out." Face flaming, he pushes towards the entrance without looking back.

Draco stares after him before giving pursuit. Slipping into the shop, he catches up with the other man by – his stomach jolts – a display of several dozen pocket-sized Hand of Glories. "You know," he says conversationally, "Legend has it that they are made from the pickled hand of a criminal who's been hung."

Harry gives him a searching look before smiling wanly. "If that were true, these ones would've come from newborn babies."

"You don't think babies are capable of committing crimes?" Draco gently jokes.

At this, Harry cracks a real smile. "My god-daughter Rose is guilty of keeping her parents up all night."

"Then two of these," Draco says, gesturing towards the display, "Should be her hands."

Harry chortles as he continues to browse along the aisle, and just like that, the tension between them disappears.

Twenty minutes later they walk out of Knockturn Alley, blinking as the bright sunlight assaults their senses.

"Where to next?" Harry asks.

"The joke shop, of course." Draco looks at Harry. "I wonder if they have Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder."

"If they do it won't be quite the same, you know." Harry raises an eyebrow.

Draco rolls his eyes. "I know, I know, it's muggle technology. They can't make everything come to life."

"Let's check it out."

They spend an hour in Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, and about the same amount of time in Madame Malkin's Robes for All Occasions where they make their first purchases: school robes embroidered with their house colors, a House Badge displayed proudly on the chest. As Harry shrugs his own on, grateful for the breathable fabric in the hot Florida sun, he blurts out a random question.

"Do you identify as Slytherin because of your namesake or do you have another reason?"

"Every quiz I've taken online sorts me in Slytherin. What about you?"

"Half of the quizzes sort me in Slytherin, the other half Gryffindor. Hell, even Pottermore couldn't make up its mind. So I figured I'd just go with the one that Harry chose in the books."

Draco chuckles, straightening his robes out. "There's supposed to be Florean Fortescue's somewhere around here. Want to grab some sundaes?"

"Yes. I'm sweltering, that sounds like a welcome treat."

* * *

><p>"How's your ice cream?"<p>

"Fantastic. Treacle Fudge is brilliant. What's yours like?"

Draco licks his spoon, considering. "It's like – well, chicken."

"I still can't believe that they make Lemon Pepper Chicken ice cream."

"It's surprisingly delicious. Want to try some?"

"No thanks." Harry makes a face. "I'm not fond of pepper, to be honest."

Draco nods as he takes another spoonful. "I saw a picture on Tumblr of an ice cream sundae last week. It was piled high full of whip cream and Oreos and all kinds of other candies."

Harry snorts. "The sugar high would probably last a week!"

"Yeah that's what I thought too."

"So you're on Tumblr too? What's your username?"

Draco freezes.

Harry notices the change and frowns in puzzlement. "Draco? What's wrong?"

The other man sighs. "Well I planned on telling you today anyway."

"Telling me what? Your Tumblr username?" Harry furrows his eyebrows.

Draco takes a deep breath that does little to calm the butterflies. "My username is jorah-the-explorer."

Harry's ice cream halts on the way to his mouth. "With a dash in between each word?" He says in a hushed tone, setting his spoon aside.

The green-haired man nods, not trusting his voice to speak.

Several expressions flit across Harry's face, the only indication of his inner turmoil. Draco anxiously watches him for several long moments. It shocks him, then, when the other man starts to laugh. "Harry…?" He asks uncertainly.

Harry wipes his eyes, still chortling. "Blimey. If someone would have told me before I left that when I went on vacation, I'd come to fancy the bloke that…" He trailed off, shaking his head. "I'd have told them they were absolutely barmy."

Draco laughs in relief. "I fancy you as well. I was so afraid that telling you who I am would make you bolt and I didn't want that."

Harry shakes his head. "The past is exactly that. In the past. I've come to appreciate living in the moment. And right now, the moment consists of a bowl of bloody brilliant ice cream and the company of a man I would love to spend more time with."

Draco flashes a cautious smile. "Can I ask a question at the risk of dampening the mood?"

"Go ahead."

"Did you ever feel bad about – about not feeling bad?"

Harry frowns as he ponders the question. "I did. I spent the first couple of years after hating myself for not feeling sorry or guilty or anything…I wondered if that meant I was an awful person, and then I reminded myself that most people would consider me to be an awful person because of what I did….I did finally come to terms with everything but it took awhile."

The green-haired man nods several times. "My journey sounds similar to yours."

They finished their ice cream in thoughtful silence.

Once the last spoonful disappears, Harry breaks the quiet calm between them. "Where should we go to next?"

"I must admit, I've been dying to know what Gringotts is like. I've heard it's quite a ride."

"Then to the bank," Harry stands and extends his hand, "We shall go."

Draco accepts the outstretched hand and rises, giving his companion a shy glance.

"Mia. Look!" A nearby stage whisper makes the men glance around. Two teenage girls, one blonde, one brunette, sit at a small table by the window looking at them. The blonde blushes heavily at being caught staring and hides her face, but the brunette takes a deep breath and speaks. "Sorry to stare. It's just – we're Drarry shippers and the two of you…"

Draco glances down at his robes and then at Harry's hand entwined in his own, discovering that the other man had done the same. He smiles, looking at the girls. "I hadn't made the connection until now."

Harry giggles with his eyes on the man next to him. "I ship Drarry too."

Both girls squeal in delight. "You guys are so cute!" They say almost in unison. The blonde girl, though still beet-red, pulls a small camera from her purse. "Can I have a picture?" She asks breathlessly.

Harry looks at Draco, who shrugs his shoulders. "Why not?"

"Irene go stand by – " She paused, her eyes asking the question.

"Harry."

"Draco."

"Are those your real names? Seriously? That's too cute!" The blonde girl shrieks as Irene walks the few feet to stand by the two men.

"Cosplay parents." Harry offers as explanation. "How do you want us to pose?"

"Throw an arm around his shoulder – you too – Irene, stand in the middle there – yes, perfect. Now say cheese – "

"Just take the picture Mia!" The brunette laughs, her grin lighting up her face.

The camera flashes once, twice, three times, before Mia announces she's done. "Thank you guys soooo much!"

Irene walks back to her friend. "Thanks Harry, Draco. You totally made our day."

Both men nod. "Our pleasure. Enjoy the rest of your day." Harry gives a slight wave before gently guiding his companion out of the shop.

* * *

><p>"That was brilliant."<p>

"Which part?"

"Everything. The whole day." Draco glances out of the corner of his eye at the other man.

Harry's soft voice answers. "I agree."

"Do you want to come back tomorrow? We never did get to see the other park."

"My flight back home is tomorrow afternoon, sadly."

"Oh." Draco says, disappointment coloring his tone.

"How long are you here for?" Harry asks.

"Another two days."

"Well then," Harry says, "In three days, I'd like to ask you out to lunch at this little bakery I know at home."

Draco pulls to a stop on the steps in front of the Hard Rock Café. Harry looks back at him, his eyebrows raised.

"You're really okay with – everything – then? You really want to date me?"

"Are you?" Harry returns, uncertainty showing in his voice.

"Yes. I am." Draco speaks with conviction. "Not only do I fancy everything about you, I also like that – that I don't – " He struggles to find the words for the sensations running though his veins.

"That you don't have to hide who you are with me." Harry finishes knowingly.

Draco blinks, shocked to hear the words out loud but somehow not surprised that Harry understands. "Exactly. Yes."

"It's a relief not to need to hide." Harry shuffles his feet. "You already know and accept the darkest parts of who I am. I don't have to keep my deepest secret a secret from you."

"Perhaps," Draco thinks out loud, "That is why the couple of relationships I've had since – then – didn't last."

"It's exhausting hiding who you really are."

"And I – we – don't have to hide anymore."

"No," Harry agrees, "We don't." For the second time that day he cups his hand along the other man's cheek.

Draco's breathing speeds up at the intense intent in Harry's gaze, and he stares heatedly back before grabbing the front of the Gryffindor-colored robes and dragging him against his chest, his mouth eagerly latching on to Harry's, and maybe it isn't perfect, maybe it's messy and slightly uncoordinated and just a bit awkward, but he doesn't care because he feels so _alive_ –

– And Harry makes some sort of wordless sound of pleasure, his fingers curling into silky green hair, and he thinks he's never felt anything so perfect in his life, and nothing else matters in this moment but hair and lips and teeth and tongue –

They break apart slowly, their breath mingling. "Whoa."

"Whoa." Draco echoes.

"They say," Harry utters after a moment, his breath coming in quick, sharp movements, "That the first kiss will tell you everything you need to know about a relationship."

"Oh?" Draco's voice is husky. "And what does our first kiss say about us?"

Harry gives a long glance deep into silver orbs. "We don't do anything halfway. We'll be taking each other's breath away for a long while."

Draco places his forehead against Harry's. "Brilliant. That sounds exactly right to me."

Harry breathes in the smell of vanilla and something uniquely _Draco_ and smiles. He turns, his hand resting firmly in Draco's, and leads them up the steps, inside the café, and into the start of something good.

~fin~


End file.
